


When In Rome

by ungracefulfalling



Series: May 27th-29th Fic Party [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: I can't believe I've never written one of these, Jib!fic, M/M, also kate, also mish missed his flight the other day so that's what inspired this, thanks kate, what an outrage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4022935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ungracefulfalling/pseuds/ungracefulfalling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where after a few hours of beers, flirting, and dragging Bob Singer, Jensen and Misha are significantly less sober than they were before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When In Rome

As beautiful as Rome was, it was crowded as hell.

 

The convention was over, at least for the weekend, and in all honesty, Misha was relieved. The previous night hadn't exactly been...calm, and the day had felt as if it has dragged on forever. There was an ache in hs bones that seemed to always be there and he could almost feel his eyes falling shut as he tried to walk through crowded streets of Roman teens who he bet spoke more English than they did Italian. He was starting to regret not taking Clif up on his offer to drive him back to his hotel because he favored walking the few blocks to get a better look at the architecture that he hadn't gotten to admire over the weekend while he was hauled up in the convention center. Now, the hotel seemed a lot farther away than just a few blocks and the architecture was starting to seem more like dirty rocks than famous wonders of the world.

 

After finally arriving at his hotel and totally not passing out in the elevator up to his room, Misha collapsed onto the gigantic bed and in a few seconds, was promptly out like a light.

 

***

 

He really regretted not taking Clif up on his offer.

 

Instead of waking up to the shrill sound of the alarm he had forgotten to set, Misha was awakened by a sharp knocking at his hotel room door and a thick Italian accent asking him to "please open the door." Trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes and make his hair look as not-terrible as possible, he opened the door and smiled at the woman.

 

"What can I do for you?" he asked, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes as he yawned.

 

"Your check-out-date is listed as today, sir," she smiled. "And this hotel has a check out time of 14:00 so unless you would like to stay another night, you must check out now."

 

"14:00?" he balked, working out the difference between standard time and military time in hs head. "It's 2 pm?"

 

The woman looked momentarily confused before understanding and nodding. 

 

"Well, I had a flight at 10 am this morning that I'm assuming I missed , so I guess I'm staying another night," he choked, trying to hold back a laugh. "I guess I was pretty, damn tired."

 

The woman looked apologetic and nodded. "I'll need your payment for another night then, sir."

 

Misha laughed, reaching into the back pocket of the jeans that he had slept in to pull out his wallet and hand his credit card over to the woman. She ran it through the electronic machine that she had brought with her and handed it back to Misha after the machine made a small "ding" sound which meant that the card had been accepted. Nodding and thanking him, the woman left down the hallway of his floor.

 

Flopping down onto the bed again, Misha stared at the ceiling an sighed. The responsible part of his brain was telling him to book another flight home as soon as possible because he couldn't waste any more money on any more night stays at the hotel he was currently sitting in. 

 

The other, admittedly less responsible, side of his brain was telling him that he really needed a beer.

 

The latter was usually a better judge of situations anyway.

 

***

 

Finding out that Jensen was also still in Italy made the news of his missed flight a little less shitty, even though when the man arrived at the bar next to Misha, the first thing he did was burst out in laughter.

 

"You missed the flight because you actually overslept. Like  _legitimately_."

 

"Yes, Jensen, I did," Misha glared, taking another sip of his second beer. "Because I'm sure you've never overslept before in your life."

 

"Hey, I never said that," Jensen smirked, grabbing the unopened beer that Misha had sitting in front of him at the bar. "What I'm saying is that I've never missed a flight because I overslept. That's kinda depressing, Mish, I can't lie."

 

"Well maybe you can't lie, but you definitely know how to steal a man's alcohol," Misha growled, trying to pry the unopened beer out of Jensen's grasp.

 

"Easy, tiger," Jensen laughed. "Finish your second before you open up a third, Jesus Christ."

 

Misha rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his second beer in one fell swoop, smirking as he finished, and grabbing the beer from Jensen's hands again as he sat staring with his mouth open.

 

***

 

The rest of the night in the bar progressed slowly. An hour after Misha's third beer, Jensen started ordering liquor and they moved to a table in the back of the restaurant. There seemed to be a never-ending flow of alcohol, and for once, Misha wasn't going to complain. The topic of conversation quickly switched from Misha's missing flight debacle to the previous weekend. Misha listened intently to the stories from Jensen's panels, smiling drunkily when Jensen mentioned guitar playing and singing for the fans. Misha mentioned the guitar as well and showed Jensen one of the blurry pictures he had found of himself with the guitar in his hands. Jensen laughed at the picture until one of the managers of the restaurant came to their table to ask him to quiet down.

 

From there, the topic of conversation switched from Misha's panel with Bob Singer _(J_ _en, do you know how physically_ hard _it is to restrain myself from getting up and just, like, slapping him?)_ to how Jared was doing  _(he just needs a little but more rest...he works way too hard)_ to their shared panel of the weekend  _(I can't believe you didn't kill youself on that foot-bicycle-unicycle thing)._  

 

By the time it got to be 11:30, they were both a little to tipsy and handsy for their own good, and snuck away to somewhere a little more secluded to spend the rest of the night.

 

And Misha thoroughly decided that maybe being stuck in Rome for another few days wouldn't be so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> pLEASE BE NICE TO ME THIS IS LIKE THE FIRST SPN RPF IVE EVER DONE DONT DESTROY ME
> 
> (yes the dragging Bob Singer was my idea. that's for shortening the jenmish panel and killing charlie jackass)


End file.
